It seemed to reduce her and her crisis to insignificance.
She had expected him to be tingling too.

He had more cause to.
"Do you mind my smoking?
Say if you really do." She really did, but she forbore to say so.

Forbearance henceforth was to be part of her discipline.
He smoked contentedly, with half-closed eyes; and when he talked, he talked of the garden and of bulbs.
Of bulbs, after what he had discussed with Edith upstairs.

She would rather that he had asked his question, forced her to the issue.

That at least would have shown some comprehension of her state.